


No More Soft Nights

by blacktopanga



Category: American Horror Story: Coven, The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - American Horror Story Fusion, F/M, Hybrids, Multi, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26479054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktopanga/pseuds/blacktopanga
Summary: Bonnie moves to New Orleans to get away from Damon and his drama. She meets a powerful witch named Marie Laveau who (unbeknownst to her) plans to siphon her power to create a spell that will bring Papa Legba back to life and finish the ritual that is supposed to grant the French Quarter witches with immense power. Problems arise with Damon, including his own plan for trying to kill Klaus, an original vampire who is after him.Angry at being betrayed and pressured by two people who she thought loved her, Bonnie becomes mean and vindictive. She decides to start living recklessly and for herself, only. Everyone judges her except one-- Klaus Mikaleson.She never thought her nightmare would become her solace.
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore, Bonnie Bennett/Klaus Mikaelson, Bonnie/Damon/Klaus, Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	No More Soft Nights

**Author's Note:**

> second time posting kinda nervous ~
> 
> here's my second story. this is an AU tbh i forgot how tvd ended but i remember it was some bs so this is if it ended with elena and damon being happy, but damon's not rly happy and wants bonnie (bc they spent months together and i refused to believe they didn't--anyway)
> 
> enjoy!

For the past 24 years, Bonnie Bennett had spent her time in the quiet small town of Mystic Falls. Days on end of slow Sunday mornings and soft, twinkling nights. Despite whatever was happening in her family life, or her personal life, Bonnie Bennet could count on a couple of things in Mystic Falls: the market on Sunday mornings were for strolling and picking fresh produce; and the stars and moon belonged to everyone to enjoy on Friday nights. It wasn’t boring or tame in her opinion. It just was what it was and it worked for her. 

Until it didn’t. 

And that would explain why Bonnie was walking into an ancient two-story cottage style storefront home in the middle of Louisiana, New Orleans. As Bonnie stepped over the threshold of the beautiful Victorian style home, she coughed at the dust that had rounded up from her disturbance. It was obvious the home had not been in use for some years. Approximately 80 years, in fact. Bonnie knew this because the home belonged to her grandmother, Sheila, and her grandmother before that and so on. The home was a long standing presence in the city of New Orleans, the first home granted to a black buyer. It stood as a beacon of hope to Black folk and as a safe haven to Witches. Because the black buyer was a New Orleans witch. The same New Orleans witch whose blood and power flowed through Bonnie’s veins. 

Bonnie entered the home through the abandoned store-front and she could feel the power nestled in every crevice of the home. She flicked on the light switch and softly gasped. Cobwebs covered vials of liquids, dried flowers and herbs, and her favorite aspect: books. The first floor of the home had been converted into a small herbs shop in the early 1900s. Folks could get important ailments and ointments believed to be infused with magical properties. And they were, if you knew how to ask. There was a veil that graced the store; those who were magical beings could see the store for what it was: a one-stop shop for magical needs. Others saw it as a natural products store. The store was abandoned by her great-grandmother once the threat of Vampires and Werewolves became too much for her in New Orleans. But the deed remained in the Bennett name, waiting for the right Bennett witch to reclaim and restore the neutrality and honor to a once flourishing time. Bonnie ran her finger over the spine of a book, brushing off the thick gray foil that came with it. She hoped she would be the right Bennett witch. 

Bonnie had not only hoped to get away from the drama that came with living in slow, easy Mystic Falls, but to be surrounded by a place where she wasn’t the minority. Literally and figuratively. She hoped this herbal shop was her way into this. And a way to make her ancestors proud. She’d done too many things against her ancestors for her to not do this one thing for them. It was her fresh start. Her new beginning. 

She strode through the shop and walked up the stairs to the second part of the home. Decorated with vintage beautiful furniture, the upper part of the home was a dream. Large, french doors that led to a spacious balcony. Wooden floor panels painted a deep mahogany. A lavish bedroom with a grand canopy bed in the center. Luscious pinks and greens and purples and yellows graced the walls and furniture covers. 

And not a single cobweb in sight. An old protection spell.  She smiled to herself and flopped onto the bed. Sunlight peaked from the window panels of the french doors that led to the balcony of her room. It warmed her skin and it felt like a sign from her ancestors. 

She was home. 

And so, it was time to get to work. 

\--

Hours later, with a little help from her magic and a lot of her natural skill, Bonnie had successfully eradicated every cobweb and dust bunny in the storefront. She;d found spell books and old grimoires, and vials of frog tears and werewolf blood. She even found a box full of vampire teeth. She didn’t even want to know how her ancestors had done  _ that _ . 

She took a small break to drink a glass of water, and swiped at the sheen of sweat on her forehead. She was dressed appropriately for the NOLA heat; white cropped tank top, ripped shorts, and her comfortable sandals. Her curly mass of her was pulled into a loose bun atop her head. And yet, she felt like she was in the middle of a swamp. As she swept the last corner of dust bunnies, Bonnie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Her skin prickled, and her chest warmed with a slight threat. She swiveled around to the storefront’s entrance to see a dark figure, silhouetted. 

“Hello?” She called, bracing herself to use the broom as a weapon. The stranger stepped forward and into the light. It was an older black woman, tall and full-figured. She had dark, glowing brown skin and striking features. Her hair cascaded down her back in thin microbraids decorated with shells and beads that reached her kneecaps. She wore a paisley, low cut top and denim shorts. Her arms and legs were decorated with runes and gold bracelets. She looked intimidating in the most natural way. She was grinning at Bonnie like an old friend. 

“Well,” she said in that unmistakable New Orleans slow drawl, “Wouldja looky at this.” Her words crashed into each other in the most comforting way. And from her smile and slightly hipped stance, Bonnie knew that this woman was not a foe, but a friend. Bonnie’s shoulders relaxed. The women stepped closer and broke out into a rich laugh that filled the entire space.

“Whew, lordy! You lookin jus like your grandmomma, chile! I mean, Shelia really done cloned herself!” The woman said, rushing to hold Bonnie’s arms and look intently into her face. Bonnie smiled modestly. The thought of her grandmother rocked through her. She felt a gaping hole in her chest of sorrow. She’d learned to replace this hole with power, but in this moment she could not muster enough to fill. 

“You knew my grandmother?” was all Bonnie could mutter, looking at the woman with wide, bright eyes. The women blew a whistled breath and rested a gold bangled covered wrist on her hip. 

“Knew? I taught that old cow everything she knew!” Bonnie chuckled at the woman’s description of her grandmother. The woman lifted a hand and caressed the side of Bonnie’s face. She smiled another one of those grand smiles that gleamed like she knew something you didn’t. 

“You must be wonderin’ who I am? My name’s Marie. Marie Laveau. I’m one of your granny’s oldest friends. It is so good to meet you, honey.” She pulled Bonnie into a hug, which startled Bonnie at first as it reminded her of her grandmother’s embrace. She melted into the woman, who smelled of cinnamon and myrrh. 

“I knew one day I’d get to meet Sheila’s kin. And I- no,  _ we _ are so happy you’re finally here. We have definitely missed the presence of a Bennett witch in the Quarter.” Marie exclaimed, pulling back and using her fist to represent the words ‘Bennett witch’. Bonnie nodded as a wide smile spread across her features she gave a slight shrug. 

“I’m really excited to be here.” Bonnie admitted, eyes twinkling like a child offered ice-cream. This was the feeling Bonnie longed for. A connection, a sense of purpose. She knew coming to her family’s birthplace would be a grand place to start. Marie looked around the shop and sighed. She muttered something under her breath and Bonnie took no mind. Suddenly, Marie’s gaze was upon her again, those almond brown eyes striking against her bony features. 

“I know yo mind’s prolly racing a mile a minute. Why don’t after you get settled in you come on down to the shop for some dinner. Gon give you a proper New Orleans welcome. You can meet yo kin and some of the otha girls. You like hush puppies?” offered Marie. Bonnie smiled and laughed, not really knowing what to say. 

“I’ve never had a hush puppy, but I would love to!” mused Bonnie, clasping her hands in front of her. She felt warmth spread through her once again. Marie Laveau placed another bony hand on her hip.

“Never had a-- Chile, we gon get some N’awlins in you! Swing by 'bout 7, okay? I’ma leave you to gon get settled and all washed up.” Marie Laveau called as she strode to exit the shop. Bonnie nodded until she realized she didn’t know where her shop was. 

“Wait! Ms. Laveau! Where is your shop?” Bonnie asked, running to the store’s door. Laveau stopped and turned around, a big grin on her face. 

“Just ask around for Lady L’s place. They’ll point you in the right direction. See you soon, Bonnie.” and with that Marie Laveau turned and disappeared into the streets of New Orleans. Bonnie walked back inside her store and smiled to herself feeling as if she'd been given a gift. Then she furrowed her brow in awe. 

She hadn’t told Marie her name. 

Bonnie raced up the stairs off the old cottage to shower and get ready to meet the family she’d so desperately wanted ever since she could remember. 

\- 

To say that Klaus Mikaleson was bored, was an understatement. After the melodrama of Mystic Falls and with every creature he’s ever wronged coming to end his life, he was effectively… over it. He’d always had a flair for the dramatic, but as of late he’d wanted nothing more than to head to the one place where he’d truly felt like home. His city of New Orleans. Here, the women were beautiful and grounded and painfully honest. The men didn't quite fear him, but respected him. And the city was well under his control. Or so he thought. Nevertheless, he was in the city not only for comfort but for peace of mind. With all of his enemies hunting him, and the protection spell he’d bedded out of a willing witch, wearing thin, Klaus needed something stronger to last him a while, at least another millenia or so. And the minute he’d stepped foot in his city of New Orleans, he sensed the change about it. He’d always let the witches roam freely, that he wouldn’t change. (Or couldn't) the witches fueled the magic of the city, and that magic is what always drew him back. But he’d sensed something much more stronger than any of the simple witches he knew of. The most powerful witch in New Orleans was Marie Laveau. But even her magic paled in comparison to the aura he sensed. It was a peculiar yet familiar stench of unchecked power. 

As he entered the entryway of his lavish French Quarter mansion, he realized where he’d felt the deafeningly strong power. There was a Bennett witch in the Quarter. And not any Bennett witch. It was _the_ Bennett witch. The only witch powerful enough to get him to his knees, like a child begging or a lover confessing. And the only witch powerful enough to grant him a spell with the level of protection he required. 

Their encounters were nothing less of brief. And he knew it would take some heavy convincing to get Bonnie to help him. And unfortunately for her, time was something Klaus didn’t have much of. But he would play nice. 

At first, anyway. 

\--

“Okay, Bonnie. Now that’s Beau, Ju-Ju, Beanie, Jamila, Naomi, Kobi, baby Yanna, and Miss Jenkins.” Marie Laveau introduced Bonnie to the crowd of people who basically crowded her and grabbed her hands to shake. It was too many people for Bonnie to remember but she smiled and shook their hands, nonetheless. 

“It’s so great to meet you all.” Bonnie said, as she captured the hand of the woman named Miss Jenkins. Miss Jenkins hooped and gave an old cackle. She then said something that sounded like a foreign language. Marie leaned into Bonnie’s ear.

“She speaks Patios, take you a while to fully understand her.” She whispered. Bonnie smiled and nodded. Miss Jenkins reached into her pocket and handed Bonnie a small muffin. Bonnie looked to Marie. Marie shrugged with a knowing smile and walked away. Bonnie leaned down to thank Miss Jenkins. Miss Jenkins pinched Bonnie’s cheek and simply waddled away. Bonnie stuffed the muffin in her pocket. 

“Okay, everyone gather ‘round! It’s Time to eat!” 

Everyone scrambled to take a seat at the long, wooden table in the middle of the room. The table donned foods and fruits enough to feed a small army. Colorful dishes that smelled of spices and warmth. It made Bonnie’s heart soar and her stomach grumble. Bonnie couldn't remember the last time she'd had a home-cooked meal.

Marie Laveau cleared her throat and raised a wine glass.

“Tonight is a very special day. Our sister, Bonnie, has made her way back home to us.” Marie begins, eyes locking with Bonnie from across the table. Bonnie’s heart swelled with welcome and love as Marie continued her speech. “

“We celebrate the return of a Bennett witch's power to our Quarter, and the slow demise of all _unnatural_ beings unlike us. We rebuke those mangy werewolf mutts,” a couple of folks hissed at the word ‘werewolf’ and someone shouted out “Damn dogs!” Bonnie furrowed her brow and looked around, stunned at the derogatory terms being murmured. Marie continued, her voice rageful and haunting.

“And we damn and _condemn_ those blood-suckin’ vermin Vampires!” At this point Marie makes a point to spit at the word “Vampire” as does the rest of the table. Bonnie’s face falters as she listens to the vile speech. Marie continued her toast. “But we say Sante as we continue to fight this long, cold war, this time with the power of Bennett witches everywhere on our side! Sante!” Marie clinks her glass to the person next to her and down the contents of the glass. Bonnie blinks and is taken aback by her statement. 

War?

Bennett Witch? 

Demise? 

Bonnie absentmindedly clinks her glass and takes a small sip, faking a small smile. Bonnie knows one thing. She came to New Orleans to get away from everything in Marie's speech. So what did she just walk into? 

-

After stuffing her face full of N’awlins delicacies, Bonnie finds her way to Marie who is heavily involved in a card game that looks different from any card game Bonnie had ever seen. Marie stops mid chuckle when Bonnie walts over, furrowed brow hidden behind a polite smile. Marie excuses herself and links her arm with Bonnie’s, walking her towards the open balcony so they could have privacy. 

The sun had set in the sky, and now the streets of the French Quarter were filled with loud noises that ranged from delightful horns to lonely saxes. People hopped and skipped around, some with lovers, others with children, everyone wearing a smile only the damp New Orleans air could give. 

“Wus the matter, ma cheri?” Marie asked, as they stood on the pale pink balcony. Bonnie tried to hide her uneasiness and failed, letting a nervous breath escape her. 

“I’m so grateful for the way you’ve included me like family, I really am… But I just… I came here to have a fresh start. I wanted to leave behind the chaos of fighting and craziness. And I of course want to help but I just… I just don’t think I can and I know how that must sound but-” Bonnie ranted, only to be cut off by Marie who held a finger to her lips. Marie looked as solemn as Bonnie had ever seen her look. 

“My dear. Yo presence alone is enough to strike fear in the hearts of the baddest cats. Nobody’s gon make you do nothin’ you don’t want to do.” She soothed, tucking a flyaway curl behind Bonnie’s ear. 

“Now it’s true. We been fightin’ in this war for years and some of us is tired. You say you come here for a fresh start but ain’t nothing fresh bout yo blood on this land. Yo ancestors is here. You didn’t stumble upon N’awlins, you were _drawn_ here. I would never ask you to do somethin’ you uncomfortable with. But you have history here too. Don’t forget that.” Marie gave her an intense look, that made her old wise eyes crinkle in the corners. Bonnie felt that a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The air was damp with heat and power. She let out a breath she’d been holding and gave a toothless smile. Marie pulled her into a brief hug and Bonnie melted into the embrace. Bonnie knew through the electricity in the air that cracked and sizzled during Marie's dinner speech that Bonnie would not be able to just sit around while a war is fought. If there was one thing Bonnie had learned from her grandmother, it was that Bonnie was not helpless and she would always fight for those who needed it. 

“Now,” Marie continued as she pulled back from her tight hug. “As long as you not round here fraternizin’ with those beasts and blood suckas. We glad to have you wit us.” Marie planted a sweet kiss atop of Bonnie’s head and Bonnie could barely look her in the eye. 

“That you don’t have to worry about.” Bonnie proclaimed, and in Bonnie’s defense she wasn’t necessarily lying. Her plan was to never be around another Vampire. 

But how would she tell Marie Laveau and the witches in the Quarter that her best-friend and man she’d been in love was a Vampire? The answer was simple. 

She wouldn’t. 

That was her past life, the life she’d chosen to give up. It didn’t matter to her anymore and it could no longer haunt her. 

But Bonnie would be lying if she said that even though Damon Salvatore was miles away from her physical body he wasn’t forever present in her mind and heart. One of the hardest things she ever had to do was to say goodbye to him. To cutoff his love from her. To ask him to give it to someone else. Which he did. With only slight hesitation. The thought of Damon loving someone else made her angry and cold. After everything they had been through, Bonnie knew that in the end, everything Damon did wasn’t for her. It was for Elena. And it made Bonnie red hot with rage, not because it was Elena and not because it was Damon but because Bonnie would never find anyone who would do the same for her. 

As Bonnie sauntered through the streets of the lively French Quarter, a crisp breeze blew her hair off her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around her torso and continued the walk towards her new home to the tune of one sole saxophone player. Although the drawl of sax was smooth and slow, it was the most sad but most uplifting thing Bonnie had heard. She dropped a few bills into his bucket and he gave her grateful nod. Bonnie took the feeling the old man’s blues gave her all the way to her home. 

As she fumbled with keys to her storefront, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up once again. Her skin prickled and she hurried to find the right key as the threat of danger began to creep upon her. She’d opened her door and walked through, slamming the door just as she felt the danger about to pounce on her. She looked through the blinds out at the empty street and let out a relieved breath. Possibly just her own nerves. Oh, to be alone and a woman.

Bonnie made her way up and went to the bathroom to run a bath. She’d always wanted a clawfoot bathtub and the one that was in her bathroom, made her swoon. Gold, encrusted and squeaky clean, overlooking a large wood-paneled window that showed where the moon laid high in the sky. Bonnie rummaged through the vanity in the bathroom, finding old lovely perfume bottles and palettes of blushes. She found a small vial that had “bath salts” scribbled on it and sprinkled into the warm water she ran for her bath. 

As Bonnie soaked in her bath, soft music wafted throughout her home, making her feel centered and at peace. When she thought of home, she pictured her storefront up and running and spending nights in her lavish apartment. Bonnie tried to push the thoughts that screamed “alone” at her. She could be alone and not lonely. 

But what if she was both? 

-

“So. She gon do the spell?” asked Beau, as he crept behind Marie. Marie rolled her eyes and turned to face the tall, dark man. Marie folded her arms. 

“She just got here now. She just don’t know what’s happenin’ yet. Don’t start botherin’ me with all this mess, I’m tired as hell.” Marie swatted a hand in his direction and moved to brush past him. The stalky, midnight black/blue man grabbed Marie’s arm before she could past him. The only part of the man’s face you could see was the bright white teeth of his, with an unfaltering grin almost like it had been painted on. His eyes were hidden by his massive tophat, but he moved into Marie’s line of view so she would catch a glimpse of them. Large white eyes, with bright yellow centers and tiny pupils that almost seemed to glitch was were his normal eyes should’ve been. There were scars dragged beneath his eyes and he had no eyelids. 

“She must do the spell. And you’re running out of time, Laveau. His patience is running low.” Beau boomed, freezing Marie in place. Marie Laveau, the fiercest witch New Orleans had seen since the Bennett clan, stammered and looked away. 

“I-I know. She will do the spell. I-I promise.” Marie stammered, as the vice-like grip on his hand began to sizzle. He nodded and leaned down to her. 

“Oh, we know. ‘Cause you know what’ll happen if she doesn’t.” The man with the grinning smile took his hand and ran it across his throat like a knife slitting a neck. He released Marie and she stumbled with a gasp. Where his hand had been there was a black hand print seared into her skin, and when she looked back up, Beau was gone. Marie swore and leaned back against the balcony ledge, her long braids whipping in the New Orlean’s night breeze to the sound of aimless jazz notes that wafted with the wind. 

-

Bonnie was dozing off in her bath, which is why the sudden knock of her door was a good thing. Bonnie furrowed her brow and slipped out of her bath and wrapped a towel around her body. She whisked away to the storefront’s door where the booming knocks kept coming. She peeked through the blinds and saw no shadow by the door. So Bonnie opened the door. And then she realized the knock stopping her from dozing off in the bathtub was actually a bad thing. She wished she was still there, falling slowly under water.

Because then Bonnie wouldn’t be greeted by Damon Salvatore at her doorstep. 

Bonnie sucked in a breath and tried not to let all of her emotions wash over her face. Her heart skipped a beat at the pale blue eyes of Damon Salvatore. But her anger soared at his absolutely, incredibly handsome and stupid face. She remained stoic as she stared at him. 

“Well, hello to you too,” he mused, scanning her dripping wet skin. Bonnie gritted her teeth. 

“What the hell are you doing here.” She spat, trying to control her anger. It wasn’t a question. Damon pursed his lips and leaned against the doorframe, nonchalantly.

“Now, Bon. You know why I’m here."

Bonnie clutched her towel to herself and looked up into his grey eyes as he continued.

"I’m here for you.”


End file.
